


A Taste of Obsession

by Defira



Series: In Her Shadows [7]
Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 18:11:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Defira/pseuds/Defira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Set immediately after Keeping Up Appearances]</p><p>Badly injured on a routine mission, Sith Lord Tahrin Dara knows that she owes her life to Lieutenant Pierce, an intriguing soldier who has come to occupy her thoughts more and more in the months since he joined her crew. She doesn't believe in fraternisation, nor does she believe in complicating her life by taking a lover. That doesn't mean that she can't draw on daydreams of Pierce when she seeks her own pleasure in the dark of night. </p><p>But her resolve is sorely tested when the Lieutenant takes an active role in making sure she recovers from her injuries, and when they find themselves alone together one stormy morning on Dromund Kaas, it may be more than her much lauded self control can take...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spiritofemby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritofemby/gifts).



The first thing she knew was pain.

Tahrin came back to herself slowly, sleep reluctant to let her go, but the pain in her side determined to drag her back to waking. She was curled tightly around a pillow, the ache like a knife buried between her ribs and left to fester. She groaned and rolled over, fingers fumbling beneath the sheets to her bare skin, tracing the puckered edge of the scar that snaked along her rib cage and up beneath her breast.

Bitter frustration welled up within her as she felt the tender skin, and she rolled to her side and then swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She didn’t have to stand to feel the weakness in her flesh, the way her legs trembled at the mere thought of putting her weight on them.

Foolishness. Utter and complete foolishness on her part. She’d grown complacent, comfortable in her abilities and she’d allowed herself to grow soft. Her talents had grown in the two years that she had been free of the facility, but she had lost her edge. There were people in her heart now, people she had come to trust and respect, and in trusting them she had left herself open.

She made foolish risks for them, because the flash of panic she felt at the thought of losing them in the heat of battle seemed more debilitating than any physical injury ever could be. And she’d made a stupid decision, and taken a foolish risk, and now had to suffer the consequences- all because she couldn’t allow Pierce to die.

It was madness on her part- the Lieutenant was a subordinate, a loyal servant, and a commoner as well. His death, or even an injury, should have been of no consequence to her. Granted, he was a magnificent soldier, and he amused and intrigued her in equal measure, but he was a distraction; her current state was a rather timely reminder of that.

Steeling herself against the inevitable pain, she climbed to her feet, swaying dangerously and grabbing at the bedside table to steady herself. Frustration bubbled through her, like acid in her veins; she clenched her teeth and straightened, ignoring the agony that shot down her right side. Stars above, it was like shards of hot glass just beneath her skin, twisting into her flesh with every breath she took. Her fingers were clinging so tightly to the edge of the table that her knuckles were white.

She was alone in the magnificent penthouse she ironically referred to as home, a vast apartment in Kaas City that was both a sanctuary and a retreat when her responsibilities grew too great. She had no company but the echo of her own footsteps, and in the silence of each empty room she could relax and let her guard down, with no need to constantly assess and reassess her surroundings.

There was silence in her home, and silence in her head. It was a gift, and a relief.

Stumbling naked towards the bathroom, she tried to recap the events of the last few days from the haze in her memory. She remembered Alderaan, travelling into the mountains with Pierce and hunting the elusive promise of an artefact from the Infinite Empire. Such power was not to be wasted, and she’d assumed it would be but the work of an afternoon to track it down. An afternoon spent amongst the snowy peaks in the company of a man like Lieutenant Pierce, well… for all her best efforts, she was only human, with human desires. Sometimes she wanted to believe that she could enjoy the company of a man like Lieutenant Pierce and know that he was there out of a genuine desire to be beside her, and not because he saw her power as an opportunity for advancement or protection from whatever past had landed him on a backwater planet like Taris in the first place.

She was only human. She bled like any other human when she was foolish enough to let her daydreams interfere with her duties.

She would not be so foolish again.

The bathroom was sparse, sleek, like the rest of the apartment. There was no cramped shower unit like the one they endured on the ship; black marble tiles ran ceiling to floor, and she passed a hand over the sensor pad on the wall to let the water flow down unhindered. A hot and gentle spray began to beat on her shoulders, and she dipped her head and let the water soak into her muscles.

She remembered the attack, but not the injury that had felled her. She remembered the Organa troops, and their battle droids, but she had no idea who had landed the crucial strike on her. She remembered the leader of the ambush, a captain by the stripes on her uniform, making a move towards Pierce as he struggled with a Guardian Droid.

And she remembered the way fear had gripped her heart in an ice cold vice at the thought of the captain overwhelming him.

She had shed her own blood, because the thought of him shedding his was too painful to consider.

She did not remember a great deal after that, but they had somehow survived the encounter and made their way back to the spaceport. The next clear memories came of waking in the medbay of the ship, her torso afire and her head spinning. She’d lost an entire day, unconscious and dancing with death as her body struggled with the blood loss. Quinn had stressed quite adamantly that her health was of utmost importance, and had pleaded with her to rest and seek further medical attention. 

Exhaustion already seeping into her limbs, she pressed her hands to the cool black tiles, and then her forehead. The water was deliciously warm, and the smaller kinks and strains began to relax from her muscles. But she was so very tired, and the anger she felt at her stupidity was draining what little energy she had. She tried to rein it in, tried to leash it and control it, but it was impossible to concentrate when she was still so distracted by pain, impossible to focus on her breathing when each deep breath was like a knife slipped between her ribs.

She remembered Pierce escorting her home, and some of the tension returned to her body; her fingers curled against the tiles, nails scraping down the marble. She remembered his teasing, his carefully worded flirtations that always undermined each argument she threw at him. She remembered the heat of his body as he’d carried her, the strength of the muscles in his arms.

Stars above, but she remembered his scent, the smell of cigar smoke and gun oil and the sharper scent of the bacta salve he’d used on his own wounds. 

And he’d escorted her home, refusing to let her walk. She could still feel where his hands had held her close, as if each place on her skin was branded by his touch. She was grateful for the cold tiles as she leaned in closer, her body suddenly consumed by a heat that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water.

She couldn’t remember anything more than that- she could only assume he’d helped her into bed, or perhaps he’d left her to her own devices. She hoped it was the latter- she was willing to acknowledge her attraction to the lieutenant up to a point, but she didn’t know if she was entirely comfortable with the idea of him undressing her while she was insensible. A Sith should never show weakness, and she had certainly been at his mercy over the last forty-eight hours.

It was unsettling, to say the least. She had been entirely vulnerable- it was not a feeling she was used to.

Knowing she would get no further respite from the water, she turned it off with a vague Force gesture in the direction of the sensor, and then stood to drip dry. She was shivering by the time she gave up and fetched a towel, brushing the water away roughly and clenching her teeth when each movement tugged at the scar.

_Foolishness_ , she told herself silently. _Let this pain be a reminder of my weakness._

She dressed herself with some difficulty, her damp hair slicked back against her skull and leaving her scarred face on full display. The joys of privacy- petty little vanities could be discarded in favour of practicality. Her skin was still flushed and damp from the shower, and she struggled into a simple sleeveless tunic and leather pants before limping barefoot from the bedroom.

There was a storm lashing at the tall windows, the air thick with humidity as lightning illuminated the sleek towers of Kaas City looming up out of the jungle. The rain drumming on the glass was a pleasant background distraction, soothing in its monotony. Inside the apartment it was still and silent, not a speck of dust on any surface despite the fact that she hadn’t been home in nearly two months.

She was grateful for the quiet, and she paused before the windows to watch the rain consume the world. She appreciated the simplicity of a morning like this- alone with her own thoughts, alone with the rain. No need to consider each and every action, no need to analyse every word spoken to her as if it might contain a hidden betrayal or a double meaning.

She had peace, and that was enough.

She ignored the kitchen, despite the growling of her stomach, and instead headed straight for the ballroom that she had converted to a private gymnasium. She had no intention of hosting grand parties and galas, as other Sith seemed to enjoy, and the enormous room was a decadent waste as far as she was concerned. Extensive remodelling had taken place once she had come into possession of the apartment, and now the room was fully equipped for her to undertake the most brutal training regime she desired.

Her footsteps, echoing against the hardwood floors of the hallway, were quickly muffled when she stepped onto the padded floors of the training circuit. Some of the tension in her shoulders began to ease at the promise of a workout, and she took a moment in the centre of the mats to steady her breathing and ready herself for the complicated exercises that would soon follow.

Outside, a rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, and she smiled faintly.

She began a simple routine, a series of blocks and feints that she had memorised when she was eight. It was easy, and it was familiar, and more than anything, she needed that right now. She needed to lose herself in the pure repetition and adrenalin of something as familiar to her as breathing.

It was hard, and she could feel the strain on her body the moment she began. Her right arm had limited mobility, and the first time she tried to incorporate a kick into the routine she nearly swooned from the pain.

She gasped, and swallowed the pain with difficulty, and kept going.

Her legs were trembling within two minutes, and she was panting a minute later. When her left leg failed her and she flailed down onto one knee, she nearly finished the fall, her arms going forward to keep her from slamming her face into the mats.

“Unacceptable,” she rasped, staggering back to her feet with immense difficulty. The pain in her side was like a hot steel bar, trapped beneath her bones. And she _would_ conquer it.

She took up position, ignoring the way her hands shook as she held them out before her.

“’m fairly sure the good Captain had you down for bed rest, m’Lord,” came an achingly familiar voice from over near the door.

Tahrin lurched around in alarm, horrified that she’d allowed him to creep up on her undetected. Her panic increased when she saw Pierce leaning casually against the wall, barefoot and shirtless, his pants slung low over his hips. 

_Stars above._

Free of his normal attire, she could see that there wasn’t really any exaggeration in the size of his armour- he was a magnificent specimen of a man, all muscle and strength. There was hair on his chest, the same rich red as the neat rows on his head, and a line that tapered over his stomach and disappeared beneath the top of his trousers. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he bore several tattoos that were normally hidden from sight. It was a vision the likes of which her imagination had never done justice, all bronzed skin and hard muscles and- 

She realised she was gaping, staring entranced at the mostly naked man in her presence. Then common sense snapped back to her with the force of an orbital bombardment, and she lurched in the opposite direction, her hand going to her scarred cheek.

“What are you doing here, Lieutenant?” she asked roughly, incensed at the way her voice shook. She blamed it on the exhaustion.

He chuckled, and a shiver passed over her skin. “I’m to keep an eye on you, m’Lord. Or do you not recall that arrangement?”

“I would never have agreed to such a thing,” she snapped, tugging at her fringe until it was back in place over the ruined half of her face. “On whose authority do you dare invade my home?”

“On your own. Or, we can call it a mutiny if that makes you more comfortable. We had this fool idea that you wouldn’t pay attention to medical instructions and would do somethin’ stupid like aggravate your injuries-”

“Don’t you dare patronise me,” she hissed, her hands flexing at her sides. Oh stars, this was a nightmare. “How long have you been here?”

“Been watching you for about ten minutes,” he said frankly.

“That’s not what I meant!” Her cheeks flamed at the thought that he’d watched her train and said nothing, that he’d watched her fumble and fall and fail. He’d seen her vulnerable all over again. “How did you get into my apartment?”

“Never left after I dropped you off. Made sure you were safe and then made m’self comfy in one of the back bedrooms. Nice digs you’ve got here, by the way.”

She didn’t know what it was that she felt- anger, mortification, frustration, desire. It all bubbled up within her, seething beneath her skin like a maelstrom. With it came the Force, hot and wild and dancing at her fingertips. She could see a haze of red creeping in at the edge of her vision. “ _Get out,_ ” she hissed, hearing the darker edge in her voice, the shadowy echo of the abyss at her feet.

He was silent for a long moment, and the tension crackled higher. She heard the exact moment he pushed off the wall and stalked towards her. “With all due respect, m’Lord,” he said quietly, his voice like silk, “ _no_.”

She spun to face him, a wall of muscle that was much closer than she’d anticipated. Close enough to touch; close enough for pleasure. Close enough for pain. “You have invaded the sanctuary of my home without my permission,” she snarled, her hands shaking from anger. Her voice echoed with power and the sharp edge of shadows. “You have violated my privacy, watched me at my most vulnerable, and disobeyed my direct commands.”

“M’Lord-”

“You will remove yourself from my home immediately, and will await further instruction from me regarding an appropriate punishment.”

He was a good head taller than her, even barefoot. Anger glinted in his eyes as he loomed over her. He was a strong man, to stand before a Sith in naught but his skin and defy her. A stupid man, but a strong one. “What, so I’m not allowed to defend m’self? Just click my boots together and salute and say ‘ _yes m’Lord, of course m’Lord, thank you m’Lord_ ’?” His jaw worked in frustration, as if he was fighting himself to stop from yelling further. “If you wanted another lackey, you should’ve just gotten your Quinny boy cloned. I’ll speak my mind, m’Lord, and I wasn’t gonna take the risk that you would come to harm while you were all by your lonesome in this pit of vipers.”

“You think me so weak that I could be overcome in my own home?” she asked incredulously; the echo faded, the red haze retreated.

“Weak ain’t got nothing to do with it, sweetheart,” he growled. “You damn near died two days ago, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let your pride push you all the way over.”

_Close enough to kiss._ She could feel the heat radiating off him, and she could feel his breath on her mouth. She couldn’t feel the abyss at her feet anymore, the ground firm again. “ _Don’t_ ,” she said softly, over enunciating each word, “call me sweetheart. Are we clear?”

His eyes were a richer brown that she had realised. “ _Crystal_ , my Lord,” he said just as softly, carefully articulating each word just as clearly as she had. She watched his lips as he spoke. “But I ain’t gonna let you die. Not on my watch. We clear?”

The intensity of his gaze began to make her nerves sing, and she looked away from him. It felt like a defeat. “I am in no danger of death, Lieutenant,” she said stiffly, trying to put her barriers back in place, trying to bring herself back under control, “so you are quite welcome to collect your clothing and see yourself out.”


	2. Chapter 2

He laughed, and a shiver ran over her skin again. “Even if you think you’re safe here in your little bunker from anyone looking to take advantage,” he said, “you ain’t safe from yourself. You were told bed rest, m’Lord, and instead-”

“Instead I am seeing to my own personal care in a manner that I see fit,” she said. “Physical exercise is crucial when recovering from an injury, in order to return to one’s natural state of fitness.”

“And how is that working out for you, m’Lord? You feeling fit as a fiddle?”

The caustic tone of his voice made her flush with embarrassment. “Admittedly I am not at my peak,” she said grudgingly.

“What, you mean to say you aren’t naturally a rabid, acrobatic whirlwind of death?”

“If you are under the impression that such skill comes naturally, I regret to inform you just how foolish such an assumption is,” she said stiffly, pressing her hand to her aching side as she panted for breath. The pain was pressing at her lungs, as if there was a block of stone in her torso that didn’t want her to inhale more than the bare minimum. “There was nothing easy about the way I acquired my talents.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it, m’Lord. There’s not a thing about you that I would call easy.”

She glanced sharply at him, unsure whether he meant it as an innuendo; for once, his expression was bland and unassuming instead of teasing. He shrugged as she continued to stare at him. “If it helps, I’m willing to offer up my services. Always better to train with a partner.”

“You mean an opponent.”

“With respect, m’Lord, I know what I mean.”

Stars above, everything he said was sending her good sense flying end over end. “Only very stupid men think it wise to spar with a Sith,” she retorted finally, her cheeks still coloured.

“You’re just full of flattery this morning, m’Lord,” he said with a grin that made her treacherous stomach quiver in response. “So, what of it? Still think you’re the greatest thing the galaxy has on offer? Or does a humble Lieutenant seem too much of a challenge for you?”

His voice offered temptation, and it set her body afire. “You think yourself fit to challenge me, Lieutenant?” she asked, her own voice a great deal huskier than she intended it to be.

“Well, it’s either play along with your newest bout of insanity and make sure I’m here to save the day when you damn near kill yourself from exertion, or I can throw you over my shoulder and carry you back to bed, which is where you should be in the first place.” His grin widened, and her knees felt weak. “And I figure my chances for survival are better in the first.”

He wanted to unnerve her; he wanted her to think she was facing an equal. Very well- she’d trained extensively against larger opponents, and she’d had years of training in seduction techniques and reading body language. If Lieutenant Pierce thought he could unnerve her with physical intimacy and clever insinuations, he had another thing coming. 

“Very well,” she said coolly, gesturing to the centre of the mats. “I’ll do my best to go easy on you.”

It was only partially a lie. She had no doubt she’d be less of a challenge than normal- the pain in her side was so intense that it was a wonder she wasn’t swaying on her feet.

He took up a position opposite her, his grin still firmly in place but his eyes wary as they began to circle each other. 

“Not looking so good, m’Lord,” he said casually. “If you’re worried about your pride, I won’t say anything to anyone about you slinking back to bed.”

“You’re not looking particularly professional, Lieutenant,” she quipped, circling slowly. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer taking a moment to dress appropriately? Or are you daft enough to not care for any injuries you’re going to sustain?”

“But it’s so much more fun to tell everyone that I earned my bruises wrestling naked with a Sith Lord,” he said, winking at her as if she were a participant in his mad joke.

“How unfortunate for you that your jaw will be broken, and prevent you from spouting such nonsense.”

She chose that moment to break the stalemate, lunging forward with an attack that had a touch of Force power behind it for momentum. He was quick though, and he managed to avoid the worst of it- he wouldn’t have stood a chance, if she’d been at her normal speeds. The strike landed against his shoulder, and he grunted in pain, and then the battle was joined in truth.

She was quicker, but hindered by her injury; he was stronger, but his size wasn’t necessarily an advantage against one so much smaller than him. And she had strength enough in her body, something many underestimated when they took in her weight and her shape. They mistook curves for a sign of laziness, and fat as a sign of easy prey. Pierce had been on the ship long enough to know what her skills were, but he was also well versed in her weaknesses.

Thankfully, she knew his weaknesses inside and out. One does not allow an elite Imperial soldier onto one’s ship without first learning what sort of danger he poses.

He did not hold back, treating her as if she were uninjured, and she quickly began to feel the strain of the fight. For each blow she landed, he usually managed to match her, and she was ruthlessly pleased to see him panting from the exertion as well. 

She kicked out at his knee, and he stumbled; he managed a blow that just crunched at the edge of her jaw and sent her staggering back. She retaliated with a sharp jab that connected with his throat; even choking to draw breath, he managed to knock her feet out from under her and send her crashing to the floor.

Not to be outdone, she drew on all her reserves and leapt, the Force propelling her through the air as she somersaulted over his head, landing behind him and spinning to face him even as she ignored the jolt of pain from the force of the impact. 

He’d anticipated her move though, and lurched to the side to avoid her kick, her foot only just connecting with his hip. He rolled to get some distance, surging back to his feet again to face her and feinting towards her injured right side. She blocked to the left, assuming he wouldn’t be stupid enough to use her injury to his advantage, especially after berating her at length for being out of bed and not resting.

She assumed wrong.

The punch landed on her rib cage, and for a moment she was certain that she was made of glass- she felt the fracture lines spiral outwards, felt the pain that raced through each crack, felt the moment that her entire body sang with pain. If she’d been made of glass, she would have shattered in a waterfall of fine crystal shards. As it was, she had no idea how she kept her feet.

She staggered back a step, her mouth gaping soundlessly as she struggled to draw air into her lungs. He pressed the attack, crowding her, but she was hardly outclassed. Her masters had made her train with broken bones until she’d passed out from the pain- this was nothing beyond her abilities. She ducked under a punch and lurched into his space, causing him to stumble as she jabbed upwards at his nose. She heard the crunch as her hand connected, felt the pain that ricocheted up her arm and through her torso as her recently wounded body shrieked in protest.

Momentum was her enemy, and his too, because as he stumbled forward, she hadn’t quite recovered her own balance and it was inevitable that they would go crashing to the floor. Tahrin was too dazed from the pain, too weakened to consider pushing him aside with the Force or keeping her own balance.

So they fell, limbs tangled together as they hit the floor in a catastrophic crash. She heard his grunt of pain as she landed atop him, and she was grateful at least that their positions weren’t reversed when she felt the spike of pain that surged through her from the fall. 

They lay there in silence, bodies entwined, panting for breath as their hearts raced and their injuries throbbed. From where she lay across his chest, Tahrin could feel his pulse hammering beneath her cheek, his skin hot and slick with sweat. He had a hand on the small of her back, fingers splayed, and she could feel the heat of each finger as if they were skin to skin.

She was exhausted, and in an immense amount of pain; she knew she should have been furious with him, but she couldn’t find the energy in her for that. All she knew was that his heartbeat was like the rain- a soothing background sound, a drumming that resounded within her and calmed her. 

“You’re crying.” His voice cut through the serenity of the moment, jarring her back to the present- a present where she lay as intimately with him as if they had just made love, and not been beating each other half to death moments earlier. When she felt his fingers brushing over her ruined cheek, his thumb dashing away the tears, she almost flew backwards in alarm. The touch- his touch- was a great deal more gentle than she had been expecting. 

That unnerved her more than any of his flirtations ever had.

She glanced up towards him, trying to gauge the expression in his eyes. “It hurts,” she rasped, hesitating for an agonisingly long moment before touching a hand to his chin. “You’re bleeding.”

“Nothing I haven’t done before,” he said with a small chuckle, then winced. “But I won’t be winding you up again any time soon, m’Lord, believe me.”

She could feel it in his chest, when he laughed. The closeness was too much for her, and she slithered to the side, disentangling herself from him and clambering awkwardly backwards until she was sitting beside him, somewhat off balance. 

He levered himself up onto one elbow, his chest gleaming with sweat, his lips parted as he panted for air. This was the closest she’d allowed herself to be with another person in years- physically or otherwise. From this position they were of a similar height, eye to eye, and they were still close enough that her knee was pressed against his hip. She found herself staring at his mouth, at the little trickle of blood below his lip. 

He was overwhelming every one of her senses- including her common sense. She leaned forward on her knees and pressed her mouth to his. 

He tasted of salt, the tangy flavour of sweat that still lingered after the fight. He tasted complex, almost alien- the taste of another person, an intimacy she had not known in years. And as his initial stunned moment of surprise wore away, and his lips moved beneath hers, she found that she quite liked the taste of him.

Her hands went up to his neck, cupping his face and letting the night’s worth of stubble rub at her palms as she leaned in closer. His lips were softer than she would have expected; a hardened soldier with a penchant for killing who had lips soft enough to bruise.

She wondered how hard she would have to kiss him to make them bruise.

She wondered about biting.

A lifetime of training kicked into gear, a need for control, and her kiss turned more aggressive. As she slid onto his lap, her thighs going tight around his hips, she felt his hand come up between them; at first she assumed he meant to amuse himself with her body, but felt a lurching sensation in the pit of her stomach as he instead pushed her back. Not so much that she went falling backwards off his lap, but enough so that there was several inches between his mouth and hers.

“Apologies, m’Lord.” His voice was strained. She could feel his arousal beneath her, and she rolled her hips against his until a vein stood out in his neck and he grunted with frustration. “But what the fuck are you doing?”

She tried to move closer, tried to close the distance between them, but he held her firmly at bay. Annoyance flared within her, and the hint of bewilderment. “Engaging in sexual conduct,” she said coldly. “I would have thought that was obvious.”

His lips were pressed together in an unhappy line. “So you spend months keeping the entire crew at arm's length, including me, doing your little robot act, then you turn around and let me kick the shit out of you and take that as invitation to chew my face off?” 

She sat back a little, the confusion growing. “I am offering you sexual relations,” she said stiffly, desire pounding in her veins, “why are you hesitating?”

“Oh, fucking stars above...” he muttered, his head tipping back to stare at the ceiling. He was aroused, of that there could be no doubt, but the tension in his neck and shoulders had little to do with physical arousal and more to do with stress. “What are you doing, lass? This isn’t you.”

“Given that you and I have never engaged in coitus before-”

“Oh, bloody fucking stars...”

“I would say it is safe to assume you have no idea if this is me or not,” she finished heatedly. She overpowered him and lunged forward again, closing her mouth over his and swallowing any further protests he might have. 

This time he did not seem to object, his arm going around her instantly and holding her close even as he returned the kiss. The strength in him was phenomenal- she did not know many men who could feel confident matching themselves against a Sith, but the hard plane of his chest as he crushed her to him was as impressive as it was exhilarating. She gasped from the wave of pain that accompanied his kiss, her ribcage aflame from the aftermath of the duel and the hungry way he grabbed at her. Stars above, it _hurt_ , but she had weathered pain worse than this before. And never before had the promised reward intrigued her so much as it did now.

His mouth was fierce against hers, his hand on her jaw coaxing her to open to him. She relaxed against him, letting him lead the kiss, his tongue firm but gentle as he explored her mouth. A fire began to simmer in her blood; when Pierce’s fingers slipped up beneath her tunic and danced over the small of her back she gasped softly. 

_Control_ , whispered a voice in the back of her mind. _We need control._

But the moment she even thought it, the moment the tension snapped back through her shoulders, Pierce seemed to know. Before she could make any sort of move to control him and get her chaotic thoughts back in order, he rolled, pinning her beneath him. 

“What are you doing, lass?” he growled, his voice ragged with need. He was so close that each word was like a kiss, each breath that she took taken straight from his lungs. There was something desperately affectionate about the way he rested his forehead against hers, mouth hovering over hers as if he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. 

“Right now? Attempting to breathe.” His weight would probably be bearable any other time, but not while she was still recovering from such a brutal injury. She could feel his erection pressing at her belly, and it sent an oddly terrified thrill through her.

He shifted, the pressure against her chest easing significantly. “Why are you going dark?” he asked, punctuating each word with a kiss.

A hint of unease slithered through her. “What?”

“Dark side. When you draw on the force, you taste different. Like... the way the storm tastes.” 

She pulled back from him sharply, fear blossoming within her. “What are you talking about?” she asked, trying to catch her breath.

His gaze was intent as he held himself stationary over her. “You’re using force powers, sweetheart- you trying to control me or something?”

The outrage she felt as his words sank in was matched only by her humiliation. Stars above, was he only here with her right now because she’d indoctrinated him? “How dare you insinuate-”

“I ain’t insinuating _anything_ , sweetheart; you’re the one with the magic dripping from your fingertips.” He drew back, anger creeping into his gaze. “What the fuck is this?”

The answer blurted out before she could stop herself. “ _Because I need control!_ ” she snarled, a hint of an echo in her voice. Everything within her seethed with eager agreement- control was perfection, the ideal state of being. 

Pierce stared at her, his jaw clenched as he considered her. His silence quickly began to grate at her, her control fracturing further as the emotions in her grew wilder. “What?” she finally snapped.

He was still breathing heavily, his eyes hungry and his skin flushed, but there was a crinkle between his eyes, the beginnings of a frown. “Hasn’t anyone ever done you right, lass?”

For some reason, the hint of tenderness in his voice, the way he hesitated over the question, just made her angrier. “I am quite capable of-”

“That wasn’t what I was asking,” he growled, sliding backwards and taking the weight of his body off hers entirely. He propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at her intently. “You ever done this on your own terms?”

“I am no cringing virgin, Lieutenant,” she snarled, her cheeks reddening again. “If you find my responses so lacklustre, or question my motives, we need not-”

“No, no, lass, stop, you’re not understanding me.” He cupped his hand to the side of her face, his thumb brushing gently, almost reverentially, over the scarred skin. The gesture was so unexpectedly tender, and so damnably intimate, that for a moment she froze. “Tahrin- have you ever had sex on your own terms?”

She didn’t think she’d ever heard him call her by her name before. She’d been naked with plenty of people, shed blood with even more, but never before had she felt as vulnerable as she did right then. She felt completely and utterly raw, and all from the way he said her name with such sincerity.

“I…” She swallowed once, twice, three times, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe, as she struggled to form the words. “I am not used to being asked for my opinion in the matter.”

He stared at her for a few beats. She was incapable of reading his expression, and that frightened her. When he finally spoke, it was quietly, gently. Not at all the battered, foul mouthed soldier she’d come to admire. “Do you want to stop?”

Her stomach dropped. “I do not appreciate your pity, Lieutenant,” she said coldly, ripping herself out of his reach. “If my offer holds nothing of interest for you-”

He chased her across the floor, planting a hand either side of her hips. “Believe me, lass.” He leaned in close, his voice low and seductive, “there’s a really loud voice in the back of my head telling me to bend you in half right here on the floor and fuck you til you scream, but against all expectations there’s still a gentleman lurking in me who don’t like taking advantage of women.”

“I’m offering myself freely,” she hissed, her voice lacking the conviction she wished it did. Desire burned at her, the crude images he painted for her making her ache with need. If he would just-

“Bullshit you are,” he said. “You’re injured and frightened, enough that you’re drawing on that damned sorcery of yours, and you ain’t ever been with someone who weren’t out to use you so you’re thinking the same of me. Look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong, lass.”

She glared at him, close enough to kiss, close enough to slap. She opened her mouth, horrified when no sound came out and her lip trembled. “Pierce, I...” She swallowed. “I do not understand what you want from me.”

His expression softened. “Whatever you’re wanting to give, sweetheart,” he said frankly, his eyes earnest. “I’m not interested in taking something you’re not comfortable in giving, and I ain’t looking for a quick fuck. If I were, I’d be down past the markets getting my money’s worth off a whore, not letting a Sith belt me seven ways to sundown just for the chance to get some.”

He may have intended the words as a comfort, but it was hard to see them as such. “You are not interested in bedding a Sith,” she said stiffly, attempting to sound distant and unmoved and instead only sounding awkward. “You have expressed disgust at my powers, and-”

He took her hand in his and pulled her to her feet, taking advantage of her forward momentum to sweep his arm behind her and drag her in close. She gasped softly, from the faint flare of pain the movement brought her and from the way his closeness affected her senses. 

“I’ve an interest in bedding _you_ , m’Lord,” he said hotly, his hand spanning the small of her back and fingers brushing over the curve of her arse, “whether you’re a Sith or no. You’ve been driving me near out of my skull for months now. So if you’re at all opposed to that idea, you’d best say so now.” 

She opened her mouth to retort, and instead found no witty comeback ready. “I have... no objections.”

It was the closest she had ever come to a declaration of love or admiration. And from the look in his eyes, she suspected that he knew that. He kissed her once, fiercely, and the grin that he gave her when he withdrew made her stomach quiver.

“Alright then lass,” he said, “let’s have ourselves some fun, eh?”


	3. Chapter 3

He led her from the room, her hand clasped tightly in his as she followed in his path.

“Where are we going?” she asked, even though it was ridiculously obvious that he was leading her to one of the guest bedrooms; presumably the one he had claimed for himself the night before. 

He made a noise that could have been a laugh. “You gonna question everything I do, m’Lord, or should I just throw you over my shoulder and lumber off to have my wicked way with you?”

“I could just throw _you_ over my shoulder. By several feet. With the Force. And melt your-”

“If I retract any threats to throw you over my shoulder, can we never mention the melting of any part of my anatomy ever again?”

“I’m open to negotiations.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, an incredulous grin on his face. “Now maybe this is just me being daft ‘cause all the blood’s in my cock instead of my brain, but I could’ve sworn that was a joke.”

“I’m not without a sense of humour, Lieutenant.”

“No shit,” he said with a chuckle, pushing the bedroom door open with his shoulder. “You should let it out to play more often.”

She had never used the guest bedrooms in the apartment before. She had seen them all of once, the day she had inspected the penthouse before going on to purchase it; after that, they had sat tidy and unoccupied, the sheets changed regularly by the housekeeping droids, the surfaces dusted. And to be quite honest, that was how she intended for them to stay- she had no family, she had no friends past the acquaintances that made up her crew, she had no lover. What need did she have for spare bedrooms at all?

Except now she apparently _did_ have a need for a spare bedroom, she thought numbly as she let Pierce lead her into the room. She took in his armour, lying carefully on the table in straight lines, his clothes sitting folded on the chair, his gun sitting oiled and polished and lying so precisely in line with the armour that he couldn’t have done a better job if he’d had a laser grid measure. 

You could take the man out of the military, but you couldn’t take the military out of the man.

He led her to the bed, and her stomach flipped uneasily. Whether it was delight or terror, she couldn’t say, but she knew that her chest grew unreasonably tight when he sat down on the edge of the mattress and pulled her closer until she stood between his knees. 

“You can relax, lass,” he said softly, the words sending a delicious thrill through her as he ran his hands slowly up the outside of her arms. She knew he probably intended for them to be soothing, but the way he growled them made the words seem nothing but hungry. 

“I _am_ relaxed,” she said as calmly as she could manage.

“You’re a damn liar, is what you are,” he said, placing a kiss on the inside of her wrist. It sent a ferocious spark of desire surging right through her, and she gasped, eyes wide. She couldn’t hide such a reaction from him, and he smiled against her skin, a flicker of tongue against the sensitive pulse. “I ain’t gonna hurt you, Tahrin.”

Her name again, murmured in desire; it made her breath catch and her skin feel tight. She couldn’t hold his gaze and ducked her head instead. “You’re asking me to trust you,” she said quietly, hesitantly. Where was cool dispassion when she needed it most? “You’re asking me to allow you to see me at my most vulnerable.” 

He chuckled, placing another kiss on the soft skin of her wrist. She felt blood rushing to her face and she scowled to cover her embarrassment. “You would laugh at my discomfort?”

“Course not, sweetheart,” he said earnestly. “And I ain’t asking anything of the sort from you. Well, except for the trust bit, of course. You ain’t got anything to fear from me.”

She gave him a scathing look, the first time she’d been bold enough to meet his gaze in several minutes. “An elite soldier highly trained in combat and death and only recently come into my service? No, I couldn’t possibly have any reason to be concerned at all.”

“I saved your life. Done it a lot of times, actually, but the last few days was just a bit more obvious, I s’pose. Watched your back and let you drag me to all ends of the galaxy, and-”

“Saving my life does not entitle you to sex, Lieutenant, or my trust for that matter.”

“Course it doesn’t. But it shows I got my heart in the right place, yeah?”

She lifted her brows at him. “Or your pride. Or your manhood.”

“Oh, I ain’t got that in the right place yet sweetheart,” he said, flashing her a hungry smile. One of his hands crept over the curve of her hip and tugged her closer still, his palm coming to rest on her arse. “But here, let’s start with an easy one- you’ve done this before?”

It wasn’t a question; he already knew the answer. She gave him a withering look. “I would wager I’ve done this more often than you, Lieutenant,” she said caustically.

“Gambling too, eh? Excellent- you’ll be corrupt and lascivious in no time.”  


Her lip quivered before she could stop herself, and although she ducked her head quickly, he caught the tiny movement.

“Fucking stars, was that a smile?”

“No,” she said instantly, but now that it was there, it was hard to keep it off her face. It felt awkward and ungainly, unfamiliar, but... _stars_. She really was smiling. 

“That would be a _lie_ , sweetheart,” he said gleefully, wrapping his arms about her waist and tugging her forward until they both went toppling onto the bed together. She gasped as the impact jarred her injury, not quite as badly as anything she’d suffering on the training mats, but still far from pleasant. 

But she was sprawled across the intriguing expanse of his chest, and it was a little easier to ignore the ache in her ribs when he sought out her mouth with the same fervour that she sought his. The kiss was desperate and hungry, and when his hands slipped up the back of her tunic he murmured wordless encouragements to her when she whimpered. 

Bare fingers on bare skin; fingers dancing in slow, lazy circles over her body, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake. She was struggling to think clearly through the haze of lust engulfing her mind; she needed control, she needed to think, she needed-

“What are you doing, lass?” he panted, one hand sliding through her hair until she moaned in surprised delight. 

It was hard to think when his hands were leaving her a quivering mess of lust and desperation; harder still to find the strength to speak the words, when he was so busy keeping her mouth preoccupied. “There are rules of conduct; certain behaviours I need-”

He kissed her so fiercely that her head was spinning by the time she had a chance to gasp for air again. “There ain’t no rules Tahrin- just make sure the person you’re wanting to tumble says yes.” 

His words sent an unpleasant wobble through her. “With all respect, Lieutenant, I have had extensive training in all possible sexual scenarios,” she said roughly, unable to meet his gaze. “I am quite certain I am more experienced than you, and you will not find my performance wanting in any-”

“ _Tahrin_.” His arm tightened around her, the hand beneath her clothing pressed hot and flat against her back. The other hand cupped her cheek, waited for her to face him. “Anyone ever ask your permission during that extensive training?”

“I have already answered these questions. Must we rehash every sordid detail of my upbringing?”

“I ain’t gonna touch you unless your heart is in this all the way, sweetheart,” he said roughly. “I’ve done and enjoyed a lot of things I ain’t proud of in my life, and a lot of things that’d see me called a monster at best, but I ain’t gonna have my way with you against your will just ‘cause your fucking _training_ kicked in and told you the best seven ways to get me off.”

“If you are waiting to hear declarations of love and adoration on my part, Lieutenant, you will be waiting a very long time,” she said roughly, unexpectedly overcome with apprehension and awkwardness. 

“Don’t need anything of the sort, m’Lord,” he said, “no need to complicate things needlessly. But it wouldn’t hurt to hear you whisper all the deliciously dirty things you want me to do to you.”

Her breath hitched in her chest. “I hardly think you need me to educate you on matters of sexual conduct-”

“Mm, but it wouldn’t hurt to be educated in what _you_ like, now, would it?” His voice turned sly, and he began to press open mouthed kisses to her neck. “You wanna tell me the things that make you quiver and moan? You seem like the kind of girl who likes to be on top, so you can have all your precious control- that seem about right?”

Her lip trembled as she tried to speak. “I... would be willing to consider it.” 

“Is that what you want, is it lass?” he murmured against her ear, kissing at the edge of her jaw, teeth scraping at the skin just enough to sting deliciously. “Do you want to ride me hard and fast until we’re sore and sweaty and your throat is raw from screaming?”

It was growing increasingly hard to breathe normally. “That would be... acceptable,” she said hoarsely, desire churning within her as heat grew between her thighs. Beneath her, she could feel his erection and every now and then he rolled his hips up against her, the motion hinting at what was to come. 

“You could leave scratches down my chest, and I’d leave bruises on your arse as I tried to keep you from bucking right off.” He kissed along the line of her chin, encouraging her to tip her head back so that he could trail sharp little nips down the curve of her neck. “And while you rode my cock, I could feast on your pretty little tits, see if I couldn’t make you scream with my kisses. Is that what you’d call _acceptable_ , m’Lord?”

The words were crude, but the imagery was exquisitely erotic; she found herself panting as she clung to him. His kisses left a trail of fire over her skin, and his shoulders flexed beneath her hands, hard muscle and power that aroused her more than she’d expected. The strength and ferocity of a soldier through and through, and the hunger to match- stars, but she had never expected herself to react quite so viscerally to such a man. Nothing he described was a mystery to her, but for some reason it made the blood sizzle in her veins, as if it was a new and delicious adventure. 

“Were I not injured,” she said, her voice wobbling treacherously, “that would be satisfying.”

He chuckled, and she gasped when she felt his hands snaking beneath her tunic, one grasping her by her left hip while the other traced gently up the ragged scar on her ribs. “This little thing?” he asked, his fingers dancing over the still healing skin. When he brushed quite deliberately at the underside of her breast, she moaned as he laughed again. “That’s hardly a scratch, m’Lord. Surely a woman with your strength and-”

“You are insufferable,” she hissed, trailing off onto a whimper when he repeated the movement, his fingers tracing the curve of her breast and higher, almost as high as her aching nipple. 

“If you think it’s too much for you, m’Lord, we can go a little slower. Less teeth and nails and bruises, more suckling and petting. Wouldn’t want to wear you out, after all.”

“I am going to demote you back to Private,” she snarled, panting desperately. When his hand finally closed over her breast, callused fingers brushing over her nipple, she arched into his touch and sobbed in a breath, her fingers digging into his shoulders so fiercely that she heard him grunt from the pain. 

“And if that don’t take your fancy,” he said roughly, his speech noticeably more affected than it had been a few moments earlier, “we can lie you back against the pillows all comfy like, and you can just relax and I’ll be your very own _private_ Pierce and we’ll see what else we can find to keep my mouth busy.”

His fingers rolled over her nipple, gently squeezing. She could barely think straight at all. “You are referring to cunnilingus,” she said, not so much a question as a statement.

“Fuck, sweetheart, we have to work on your dirty talk.” His mouth finally found hers again, the kiss hot and bruising in its ferocity. His hand still played beneath her tunic, and each small sob that she let out was a victory for him; she could feel the way his lips curved into a smile, his satisfaction obvious. 

When she had the breath to speak again, she said “I find it interesting that you would be so preoccupied with my pleasure, rather than your own.”

His laugh sent a shiver through her already feverish body. “Who’s to say I don’t get pleasure out of hearing a fine lass like yourself screaming my name? I could lay you down on your side and take you from behind, so you don’t have to do all the work and you don’t need to be worrying about-”

“ _I understand_ , Lieutenant,” she said, the images burning into her brain- Pierce pressed tightly to her back, muscled arm wrapped about her waist and his thigh wedged between her own, sweat making them slide easily against one another...

Stars above, where was her control? Where was her sense of separation, her much lauded detachment? She felt ready to crawl out of her skin, light headed enough to keel over and lie on the bed, boneless and giddy. She wanted Pierce with a desperation she did not know she was capable of- he roused a hunger in her far greater than any desire she had ever experienced and conquered before. 

“Maybe I like seeing you all hot and bothered when I spell it out for you, eh?” He chuckled, his hand squeezing at her breast until she gasped. “You just say the word and you can have it all, fast or slow, nasty or tender.”

She only had so much patience. “Very well, Pierce,” she said, her voice little more than a husky whisper despite what she intended, “if we are to engage in sexual conduct-”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you _have_ to stop calling it that.”

“Very well. If we are to engage in coitus-”

He groaned and bit down sharply on the junction of her neck and her shoulder, soothing the sting of the bite with his tongue. “I take it back. Call it sexual conduct all you want.”

“You are insufferable,” she said, repeating the insult from earlier. “Any offers of intimacy would be more sensibly achieved were we naked, after all.”

“Oh, you want me in the buff, do you lass? That can be arranged.” 

He eased out from under her, leaving her sprawled on her back in the centre of the bed. She propped herself up on her elbows and watched him, fascinated by the smug grin on his face and the prospect of viewing his body fully. Pierce was a fine specimen of a man, his shoulders broad and his hips narrow, the ruddy curls on his chest softer than she had expected. The way they tapered over the hard muscles of his stomach, vanishing beneath the hem of his low slung pants, was enough to leave her squirming in anticipation.

And he could tell, blast him; the look on his face as he hooked his thumb into the top of his pants was one of a man mightily pleased with himself. 

“Enjoying yourself, m’Lord?” he asked casually, running his hand along the seam, tugging them perhaps an inch lower, if that. 

She realised a moment later that her hands were bunched up in the sheets, and she relaxed them with difficulty. “If you are concerned as to whether or not I am appropriately aroused-”

“Oh, I ain’t concerned, sweetheart.” 

Saying that, he pushed the pants down, his cock springing free as they slid down over his thighs and pooled around his ankles. He stepped free of the puddle of fabric, his smile wickedly smug as he sauntered back towards the bed. His cock bobbed as he walked, the swollen width enough to have her eyes widening in admiration; she should have guessed that his manhood would be just as impressive as the rest of him. 

She had never been so fascinated by a male body before.

He stopped beside the bed, arms crossed over his chest. “I believe that makes it your turn, sweetheart.”


	4. Chapter 4

She swallowed down a peculiar bubble of nerves; odd, that she would feel nervous at a time such as this. The number of men who had taken her to bed counted in the dozens- she had no qualms about her performance, her ability to please a partner sexually. Likewise, she felt no concern over the desirability of her body, so where then did this twinge of anxiety come from?

He held out a hand to her, his eyes hungry and his smile devilish. She took it with only a slight hesitation, his hand all but engulfing hers. He was warm, so very warm, his callused fingers rubbing encouragingly over her skin as he helped her slide from the bed and pulled her to her feet. 

“You ever laughed during sex before, sweetheart?”

The question was unexpected, and she glanced at him to see if he was joking. “That is not... no?” she said, confused. “Why would it warrant laughter?”

“Plenty of reasons,” he said, sinking down onto the bed with a wink. “Had a feeling that’d be your answer though.”

She hesitated, the anxiety sitting quietly in the pit of her stomach as she stood beside the bed, still fully dressed. “I do not understand,” she said bluntly.

“S’alright, lass, not like anyone ever gave you a chance to- you know what, it ain’t important. You do your thing.”

Tahrin hesitated for a moment longer, before steeling herself and shoving away the apprehension. She reached for the hem of her tunic, the fabric bunching in her fingers as she began to slide it upwards. 

“You’re scowling, sweetheart,” he said softly, and she glanced over at him. He was stretched out on the bed, propped up on one elbow as he watched her. His other hand was on his cock, and for a moment she was distracted by the agonisingly slow rhythm as he slid his fingers up and down. A bead of liquid had pearled at the head, and when he rubbed his thumb over it she felt an answering rush of heat between her legs. “Don’t want you getting all grumpy just when we’re about to start having fun.”

She felt heat in her cheeks, a flush that left her light headed and giddy. Dragging her eyes away from him, she tugged the tunic up and over her head, letting it fall to the floor beside his trousers. She heard his appreciative growl, and found that it was a little harder to breathe than she had anticipated; her chest was tight and hot, her nipples aching under the heat of his gaze. She did not need to look at him to know that he was staring. 

The ragged scar felt stretched too tight over her ribs, the ache going right through her, and for a moment she had to pause, her hand going to the tender skin as she fought to catch her breath. 

“Need me to kiss it better for you, m’Lord?” he asked teasingly.

She glanced over at him, relieved to see no judgement in his eyes- only concern warring with desire. “I am hardly indisposed,” she said stiffly, looking away quickly. She felt susceptible, seeing such tenderness in his gaze; it was no trifling matter to resist the urge to fall back on old habits and attempt a guarded wall around her pride. 

“Never doubted it, m’Lord,” he said, “but I’m hardly gonna pass up an opportunity to get my mouth on you.”

The words, stupidly suggestive, had the desired effect- some of the tension bled from her and the corner of her mouth twitched with the hint of a smile. 

“Hah! That’s a little more like it. I’ll get a giggle out of you in no time, at this rate.”

“I wouldn’t put money on it Lieutenant,” she quipped, reaching for the buckle on her belt.

She struggled a little with the leather pants, turning her back on him so that he wouldn’t see the awkward frustration on her face. She couldn’t shimmy out of them with the same ease that he had with his trousers; she had to peel them off slowly, one leg easing free at a time as she slid them down her thighs, over calves slick with sweat, pointing her toes to wiggle her feet free. 

He hissed in a reverential breath. “Fucking stars, Tahrin,” he said hoarsely. “You know how to put on a show for a fellow.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, and realised that in her effort to hide her struggle with the leather pants she’d been waggling her bared buttocks at him instead. There was a tension in him that hadn’t been there earlier, and the hunger in his eyes made her stomach flutter as she straightened slowly, kicking the pants away. 

Turning to face him, her skin shivering with need and heat, she paused for a moment to take in the lustful adoration on his face. It gave her a measure of satisfaction, a fierce sense of delight knowing she had roused such an intense reaction in him. 

“Is everything to your satisfaction, Lieutenant?” she asked casually, gesturing to her nakedness.

His eyes were dark with hunger, and it sent a thrill through her. “You’re enjoying turning the tables on me, aren’t you lass?” he growled, sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed.

She shrugged, as if it were of no consequence. “Perhaps,” she said mildly, though it took all of her control not to simply cross the short space to the bed and wrap herself around him. 

Swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress, he beckoned with one finger. “Come here,” he said sharply, his voice hoarse with need. 

“Looking to give me orders now, are you, Lieutenant?”

“If you don’t come here, I’m going to tackle you to the floor and have my way with you right there,” he growled, “and since I’m trying to do right by you, I’d rather not have to test what remains of my more noble half.”

His words sent a surge of heat through her, and she gave up her attempts to be teasing and crossed the last few steps to his waiting arms. His hands went to her hips automatically, tugging her closer, while hers went to his shoulders for balance. 

“Fucking stars,” he breathed, his fingers burning her skin where he touched her. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

Before she could answer, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to her stomach, and the words she’d been about to speak came out as a garbled moan. She swallowed once, her nails digging into his shoulders. “That’s certainly an excellent start,” she croaked. 

He kissed along her stomach, taking special care to be gentle with the scar, his tongue flicking over the puckered skin until she was gasping and squirming. His hands slid around the curve of her hips, one dipping lower to squeeze her arse while the other hand pressed flat against her back, keeping her firmly pinned to him. 

When his mouth began to tease at the underside of her breast she lost her balance; she had nowhere to fall, of course, but his chuckle rumbled through her. He hooked a hand on the underside of her thigh, and pulled her forward until her knee was resting on the bed beside his hip. It pressed her further into his embrace, and she moaned as she felt the head of his cock against her belly. 

“Pierce,” she rasped, her blood pounding so fiercely in her ears that she had to wonder if he could hear it as well. 

His answer was to close his lips around her nipple, suckling hard and drawing a desperate wail from her. She ran a hand up to the back of his head, cradling him there and encouraging him to feast, tipping her head back as she panted frantically for breath. Each heaving gasp of air pushed her breast into his mouth, and when he let out a pleased groan she felt it rumble through her flesh. 

She ground herself against him, delighting in the sweat that slicked their bodies and made her glide against him. As she rolled her hips against his cock, it sent a sizzle of fire through her, and from the way his fingers dug almost painfully into her arse, she knew it had a similar effect on him. 

“You’d better have an answer for me, lass,” he said, releasing her breast and kissing hard at the base of her neck, all teeth and desperation. “What do you want me to do?”

Panting, she said “I want you to take me.” She slid a hand between them and closed her fingers around his cock, squeezing gently as he bucked into her hand. 

He groaned desperately, his face buried in the curve of her neck. “Do you even have lube or-?”

“I... I am not sure.” She certainly hadn’t ever prepared for such a need. “I had my housekeeping service stock the bathrooms when I moved in. It’s entirely possible that they might have assumed-”

He didn’t let her finish, kissing her once fiercely and lifting her effortlessly off his lap and onto the bed. She sat bewildered and amused, watching his arse as he dashed into the bathroom. She tried to catch her breath as she listened to him opening and slamming the cabinets, his muttered curses bringing a half smile to her lips. 

“Aha!” His shout of victory sent a delicious thrill through her, enough to have her squirming on the bed in anticipation. He appeared again in the doorway, his expression so wickedly hungry that she let out a small gasp in response. He held a small vial in one hand, and as she watched he broke the seal and upended the contents into his other hand. 

He stalked slowly back towards the bed, rolling the liquid in his hand over his cock with leisurely strokes that she was certain were designed to provoke a response in her. “Remind me to thank your housekeeping service,” he said slyly, crawling across the bed on his knees, hand still around his cock. When he drew close to her, he ran an oiled finger up her leg, grinning wickedly when she shivered and tipped her head back. 

She moaned and clawed at the sheets when she felt the cool liquid upended over her sex, her feet digging into the mattress as he chuckled and dipped his fingers into the mess he’d made on her skin. She was near out of her mind with need as he traced patterns in the oil, his callused fingers sliding easily as he tauntingly slid them between her legs to tease at her clitoris. 

“ _Pierce_ ,” she whimpered.

His laugh was strained. “I await your instruction, m’Lord.”

“If you do not hurry up and initiate more intimate relations, I will have you assigned to be Captain Quinn’s personal assistant for the next _month_.” 

“Ooh, you get _nasty_ when you’re horny, sweetheart. I like that.”

He took her by the hand and pulled her forward onto his lap, murmuring apologies when their haste caused her to gasp in pain, her free hand pressing to her injured side.He propped himself up on one elbow and pulled her flush against him, kissing her gently despite the tension she could feel in them both. His other hand ran soothing circle on her back, and in a few moments the worst of the pain had dissipated and she was whimpering at his mouth, her hips grinding eagerly against his. 

“Your move, Tahrin,” he gasped; she could feel him all but vibrating with the strain of holding back, the motions of his hips matching hers as she tightened her thighs around his waist. Hearing her name on his lips was possibly the most sensual thing he could have done for her in that moment. 

She sat up on her knees, reaching between them and gripping his cock in one hand while she balanced against his shoulder with the other. His hand went to her hip, holding her steady as she settled the head of his cock against her entrance and began to press down.

“Oh, _stars_ ,” she rasped, her body stretching to accommodate him. The last two years of chastity had not left her in the best state to leap immediately into bed with a man of Pierce’s physique. She panted as she rocked slowly back and forth, taking a little more of him with each roll of her hips, gasping with the delicious ache as her body settled around his girth. 

“Ah, fuck,” he croaked when she was perhaps halfway down his length. His fingers were so tight on her hip that she was certain to have bruises by that afternoon. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, lass.”

“I’ll ensure your death is appropriately aggrandised,” she said, panting desperately as she pressed her forehead to his. 

“Fucking stars, and you’re making jokes.” He groaned in frustrated delight when she slid down the last inch, sheathing him fully within her. “I know I said we’d go at your pace, sweetheart, but if we don’t speed up a little, this is going to be an embarrassingly short performance for me.”

“Duly noted,” she said. She put her hand over his, lacing their fingers together, as she began to move. She didn’t know why she did it, given that it was a rather intimate gesture- she told herself she needed him to anchor her. 

She moved slowly at first, her muscles clenching around him in the way she knew would bring him the greatest pleasure- judging by the way he gasped and groaned beneath her, his hips bucking sharply against hers, she was at least successful on that count. 

But she couldn’t keep control of herself. The blood boiled in her veins, her skin alive with sensation- every kiss and every touch drove her higher and higher into delirium, her movements growing erratic and desperate the faster their coupling became. He was all around her, overwhelming her every sense, buried so deep within her that she couldn’t quite tell where she ended and he began. 

And then there wasn’t any place for thinking, because there were too many sensations assailing her- his smell and his taste and the noises he made, the way he filled her and stretched her, the way her body settled around him, tight and hot and perfect. Their fingers were entwined so fiercely that she wondered who would be the first to suffer a broken hand. 

He thrust against her, matching her rhythm perfectly, and it did not take long before she began to feel the pressure building within her, her body threatening to uncoil in delicious pleasure. 

She pressed his hand even tighter against her hip. “Pierce,” she whispered, each breath she took stolen straight from his lungs. “I can’t-”

“I know, lass.” His breath was erratic, his chest heaving, his motions jerky. “I know.”

He’d barely finished speaking when she broke apart. Her thighs tightened around his hips as the orgasm took her, her back arching as a frantic cry bubbled past her lips. He stiffened beneath her, and as her muscles rippled around him in climax, he joined her, grunting as he buried himself as deeply within her as possible. She could feel him spilling within her, and it gave her a perversely erotic sense of glee knowing how greatly he had lost control. 

The pleasure of the orgasm was far more than exquisite- she did not know whether years of abstinence had improved the experience, or whether it was as compliment to Pierce’s skills as a lover. But she found herself trembling as she slithered free of his grasp and slumped against the bed, her body wracked with giddy little aftermaths, tiny quakes of pleasure that left her shivering as he drooped down beside her. It seemed completely natural to turn into him, her face buried in his chest as she shivered and waited for her body to calm, her arm draped over his hip and her legs entwined with his. 

She heard him murmur her name, felt him place a kiss to the top of her head; she had no words to return his affection, no way to thank him but to press her face tighter against his chest and wait for the pleasure to die off and return mastery of her body to her. 

In a quiet part of her mind, she noted with some bemusement how none of her previous bedmates had held her in the aftermath. Pierce’s hands were gentle on her skin, his whispers rough but tender in a way she had not expected from him. 

She had no experience to draw upon here. No understanding of what a woman did for her lover in the quiet moments after the storm of desire had passed. 

She felt his hand beneath her chin, and despite the kernel of anxiety in her stomach she let him turn her face up to his, his fingers brushing gently over her scarred cheek. 

“You right, lass?” he asked gruffly, her expression tender.

Her heart lurched unexpectedly into her throat at that look, and she swallowed uncomfortably. “Just because a woman takes a moment to recover from an orgasm does not mean that she is emotionally compromised,” she said stiltedly. 

He grinned tiredly, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Meant your ribs, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to get that physical with you- didn’t want to go hurting you because I couldn’t keep my cock on a leash.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “But by all means, let’s talk about my magnificent performance leaving you emotionally compromised. You should tell me all about how I’ve ruined you for other men.”

She couldn’t help it- her lips quirked into a smile, the tension in her body easing away at this ridiculous humour. “Now, now, Lieutenant, I’m not here to inflate your ego,” she said, grateful for his deflection tactics. “I’ve a full job ahead of me inflating other parts of your anatomy.”

“Stars above, she smiles and jokes!” He kissed her again, his smile joining with hers. “Next thing I know, I’ll be waking up wearing Republic colours, or Quinny boy will get that stick out of his arse.”

She laughed shakily, the sound awkward; she dropped his gaze and pressed a kiss to his bared shoulder instead, so that she didn’t have to look at him. “Thank you, Pierce,” she said quietly.

He snorted a laugh, his fingers combing through her hair. “For what?”

She hesitated. “This could have gone very differently,” she said cautiously. “I appreciate what you did for me here.”

“Blew your mind with fabulous sex? The pleasure was all mine, m’Lord.” He laughed at his own joke, and then sobered quickly when she didn’t join him. He sighed instead. “You’re welcome, Tahrin,” he said softly. 

And they lay together in silence, listening to the rain patter against the window and the thunder rumble over the jungle, letting the sweat cool on their bodies as the significance of everything they hadn’t said settled gently over them. 

It was, in all, a perfect sort of beginning for two very imperfect people.


End file.
